


Requiem

by stegoeggos



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alexis | Quackity Deserves Better, Alexis | Quackity Needs a Hug, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Author is a Toby Smith | Tubbo Apologist, DadSchlatt, DadSchlatt AU, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Ghost Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Hybrid Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Puffy Angst, Puffy | Puffy Needs A Hug, Toby Smith | Tubbo Has PTSD, Toby Smith | Tubbo-centric, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), jschlatt and captain puffy are siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29025540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stegoeggos/pseuds/stegoeggos
Summary: Four people visit Jschlatt's grave. One enters with denial, one enters with anger, one enters with bargaining, one enters with depression, and all leave with acceptance.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity/Jschlatt, Captain Puffy & Jschlatt, Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Jschlatt & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 14
Kudos: 136





	1. Denial

**Author's Note:**

> if you didn't know already, the title of this work is a song called "Requiem" by Dear Evan Hansen! i figured it was fitting for this work
> 
> i hope you enjoy! more chapters are on their way :]
> 
> kudos and comments really boost my confidence in my writing ability, and they help me stay motivated for the next chapter/book! if you enjoy, let me know in the comments :]
> 
> tw // corpses, bugs, mentions of abandonment, mentions of alcoholism

It's a knock on the door and the gentle noise of a letter sliding across the floor that wakes the sheep hybrid from her dreadful nightmare.

Her eyes shot open, the sheep hybrid's chest heaving up and down as she felt the sweat slide down her skin and bury itself in to her coat of wool. Puffy gripped the sheets tightly in her hands, her fists clenched as she recognized where she was.

"It was just a nightmare," she murmured to herself, the heat from her sheets and coat of wool combined feeling all-too overwhelming. In a desperate attempt to get out, she tore the sheets from her legs. "It's not real. You're okay,"

It didn't _feel_ okay. The air felt thin and suffocating, and there was a deep pit of fear and anticipation (for what, she did not know) squirming in her stomach. Where usually the reassurance of reality would quiet the beasts that gnawed at her in her sleep, this felt like a waking nightmare. It felt like she was in danger, but there was none to be seen for at least miles from her cottage.

Puffy flicked on the lights, whilst sliding off of the blue-and-yellow patterned bed. Dawn slipped through the slits of her blinds, as she strode towards the door in the next room, wearing her duckling pajamas, and sparing a glance at an old chest as she passed by it. Her gaze lingered on it for merely a second, before she continued making her way towards the oak door.

Peering through the eyehole, she found nobody standing outside.

"That's.. odd," she commented quietly.

A crinkle of paper beneath her hooves startled the hybrid, the feeling of dread in her stomach growing at the sight of it, as she bent down to lift the letter up.

"Eret," she read aloud to herself, and gave a small smile at the name. Eret was, and still is, one of her greatest friends to this day. She can't help but take a moment to reminisce on the adventures they had, the places they explored...

 _Silly me, getting off-topic,_ She chided herself, _This is probably just about how he's been doing. So why do I feel so scared?_

The stamp on the front was one she had seen many times before. Eret and her never had lost touch with each other, even after they went their separate ways. Puffy had decided to settle down, whilst Eret had chosen his own new adventure. 

Tearing the paper open, she lifted the small, folded note from its case. She unfolded the small paper note, leaving the cover on the hard and sturdy wood of the table next to her.

_Dear Puffy,_

_You've probably opened this letter thinking that I would supply you with my rambles of the kingdom and life here, but I am afraid that is not the case. Manburg, the nation that your brother had ruled, has been reduced to nothing but a crater. Moments before the explosion, Schlatt was found in the caravan, where he passed away from a heart attack. His funeral was.. not a pleasant event, but he does have a grave and is currently buried here. If you would like to, you can come visit and pay your respects to him. There are many people who would love to meet you here, and we can help you through whatever you are feeling. I'm sorry for your loss. If there's anything I can do, let me know. Don't be a stranger._

_Sincerely, Eret._

The paper crinkled under the pressure of the sheep hybrid's hands, crinkling as the woman crushed the letter in to a ball of paper. Her hands tremored slightly as she gripped it, droplets of water slithering down from her cheeks and falling on to the paper in her hands, dampening it.

 _"Fuck!"_ She suddenly snapped, slamming her fist against the table as she angrily swiped away the tears from her cheeks. No. She would _not_ cry for a man who had abandoned his own _child_ , she would _not_ cry for a man who turned to alcohol to find a way out, she would _not_ cry for someone who had stolen her money for some cheap booze.

But she would cry for her brother. She would sob, scream, and _shriek_ for her brother.

"He can't be dead.." she croaked, her throat raw from the sobs that tore their way out, seemingly endlessly. "No, he isn't."

She looked to the paper in her hands, the crinkled, balled letter. Even if she threw it in the trash as she stormed purposefully towards her chest of items and clothing from her adventures, even if she felt it, deeply buried down, covered in denial, that her brother was truly dead, she refused to believe it.

So, she would not play the grieving girl. It would be foolish to grieve for someone who isn't dead.

* * *

The sound of horse's hooves cushioned against dirt and soil rang closer and closer as she got nearer to the kingdom, following a compass Eret had mailed her once he was crowned. 

_"Now you know where to find me,"_ The letter had said. _"No matter where I am."_

In some way, Eret was a brother to her. Schlatt had fucked up royally with her, and when Puffy started to shift off-course once Schlatt and her cut contact, Eret was that anchor that guided her back on track. A lot of who she is now is because of him.

Guards stood outside of the kingdom's gates, but upon seeing her, they opened the gates, cranking up the lever. _Looks like I was expected._

She wasn't very surprised, Eret knew her very well. She was like a spooked turtle, hiding inside of her shell, bottling up all of her emotions, and Eret was the person who would guide her out of her shell, get her to open up a little bit.

"Where's Eret?" She slowed her horse to a walk as she approached the entrance of the gate.

"At his quarters. Go to the main hall, up the stairs, and take a left. Pretty hard to miss."

Giving the slightest of nods, she passed through the kingdom's gates, stabling her brown beauty. She rested her hand on the horse's cheek, caressing her face. She didn't know how long she was standing there, but by the time she was woken from her trance, Eret stood not five feet behind her.

"Hey, Puffy," his voice was soft, cautious. Why was he cautious? "How are you?"

Puffy barked out a humourless laugh, turning to face him. "Just fine. Stellar, even! I haven't been this _fine_ in a while. Finally talking to my brother after all this time."

Eret's soft smile curled in to a frown. "Did you get my letter?" He asked gently, concern seeping in to his voice. Puffy froze.

She thought for a moment. The letter that had brought her here in the first place, the letter that she dreaded to see, the letter that shook her world to its very core. The letter that was the sole cause of all her pain at the moment.

"..No. No, I didn't get your letter," she murmured, tilting the pointed hat on her head down over her eyes. Eret could always tell when she was lying, through her eyes. Windows of the soul. "I'm here to see Schlatt, though."

The king carried a knowing look in his eyes, frowning at her. She averted her gaze from him.

"So where is he?"

"Come with me. It's not exactly the prettiest sight," Eret sighed.

"He never is."

* * *

Once the two arrived at the grave, Eret had fled the scene with a few comforting words. The sheep-hybrids hands and legs shook, and tears slipped down her cheeks like a dam had broke.

Schlatt, the caring brother in childhood, the one who had given her bandaids when she scraped her knee, the one she cared for with her whole heart, even when he had fallen in to alcoholism, even when he had abandoned his own _son,_ reduced to nothing but a body covered in soil and rocks.

No flowers lay at his grave. There was no attempt to make his grave look good. There were no loving words or final goodbyes shared here, no.

All the grave said was;

**Schlatt**

**Second President of L'manburg**

It was all so hard to believe. There was solid proof in front of her that this was Schlatt, her brother, but she still couldn't believe it. She wouldn't believe it, not until she saw him face to face. She wouldn't dare to grieve until she knew that that grave belonged to _exactly_ him.

Pulling a shovel from her backpack, she dug it in to the soil, stamping a boot on to the step. Lifting the soil up, she tossed it to the side, ignoring how the tears didn't seem to cease their journey down her cheeks.

 _He isn't dead,_ she repeated to herself over and over, like a mantra. _He isn't dead._

Losing herself in the hypnotic motions of digging the shovel through the dirt and dropping it to the side, she barely noticed how rapidly the sun was going down. By the time the grave was dug up, the soft, amber glow of the sunset would shine on the gravestone.

And down below, lay the corpse of Schlatt himself.

Clasping her hands over her mouth, she bit back the growing scream that rose in her throat.

_A horrible, horrible sight indeed._

Maggots and bugs crawled all over the dead man's corpse, his eyes staring sightlessly up at the sky. His mouth was ajar, and she could see the spiders making their homes in his mouth. The scent of decaying flesh was putrid, sharp and vile, and the sheep hybrid turned to the side to throw up at the sight.

Nobody had even _tried_ to make his body look presentable. Nobody had _tried_ to make him look as if he was sleeping. No, he looked like he'd fallen through all layers of hell, and never made it out.

She wanted to deny his death, she wanted to turn away from it and forget it, she wanted to _run_. But how could she? Certainly the dead man's corpse was burned in to her mind by now, and if she even dared to close her eyes, she would see it. She wouldn't be able to escape if she tried running.

No, the only way to escape it in this situation, is to face it head on.

"I guess you're dead then, huh, Schlatt?" her voice wobbled. "I should've seen it coming. You never were going to quit drinking, no matter how much I pleaded. Even then, I still thought you'd be able to win your fight against alcoholism. I never lost hope in you,"

Puffy paused, drinking in the silence. Grief buried itself deeper in to her heart. Her soul would surely have scars from this battle.

"You were good once," she spoke softly. "Remember when we went fishing, and I had fallen in the water when a fish too big for me caught on to the line? You jumped in to save me. That person back then would do _anything_ for those he cared about."

It was a funny story, the fish one. It always made her laugh when she looked back on it. But now, now it only made her cry. It made her miss the person he was before, and it made her wonder if things could've changed if he was still alive.

"I'm not grieving for the person you became, Schlatt," she let out a bitter laugh. "I don't have anything to say to that person. I'm grieving for the caring, generous, protective and kind soul who wouldn't hurt a fly, underneath all of the trauma and anger that he hid in. I'm grieving for the one who jumped in to save me,"

Taking a seat next to the opened grave, she rested her head on the side of the stone.

"I guess it's my fault too, huh? I didn't jump in to save you when the big fish pulled you under. I tried to, believe me, I tried to, but you were too far underwater for me to swim," She tore off her hat, sitting it to the side. "I let you drown. I shouldn't have."

"I didn't believe it when I first heard you had died. How could I? How could I accept that my brother, the once closest person to me in the world, had died? How could I accept that?" She turned to look back at the horrific sight of his corpse.

"Nobody gave you a proper funeral. The way your body's been treated, that's clear," she sighed. "I can't bear to look at you like this."

Standing up on to tremoring legs, she pushed past the grave to a field of flowers, picking yellow, red, orange, and light blue flowers. Tying the vibrant plants in to a bouquet, the sheep hybrid made her way back to the corpse, slowly climbing her way in to the grave.

Being closer to the body made her want to scream, but this is what she had to do. This would be her final goodbye to that sweet, caring soul she knew as a child.

Turning his body to lay flat on his back, she lifted his limp and fragile hands, placing them on to his chest. Her hands shook as she did, but she didn't pay any mind to it. She placed the bouquet in the center of his chest, wrapping his fingers around it.

Bugs crawled over the man's tattered and torn suit, where she reared back to flick them off. Turning to look at his face, she noticed the spiders all over it.

"God.." her stomach twisted at the sight. No, she had to keep it down. It would ruin all of her progress if she vomited all over her brother's body. It would also be _very_ upsetting for that to happen.

Peeling the spider's off of his decaying face, she closed his mouth and positioned it to stare at the sky. The woman pulled his eyelids down over his eyes, making a few more changes, before climbing out of the dirty grave.

Puffy panted, sitting down once more beside it.

"I know who your kid is. I saw him earlier today," she mumbled. "I wonder if you knew. If you did, did you even tell him? Did you talk to him?"

Her eyes hardened. "Or did you take it to your grave?"

"Either way, it doesn't matter anymore," she detracted. "You're gone. And maybe that's okay, for now,"

"I think we're going to be okay without you here, Schlatt. I think I'm going to be okay," she reassured herself. "Go to sleep, now. Be at peace."

As the sun dipped behind the hills, and stars flickered in the night sky, she stood up, brushing bits of dirt off of her fine clothing. However, as she looked down at what she left, she smiled softly at her hat, sitting right beside the grave.

"Keep it," she nodded at him. "It's yours."

Darkness fell quickly, but as the sheep hybrid went further and further away from the grave, a wave of acceptance washed over her heart. He was gone, but she would always remember who he was.

_Schlatt is gone. And that's okay._


	2. Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy visits Schlatt's grave. There are no kind words he has to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another chapter as promised!! i'm glad that you guys enjoyed the other one, truly! <3
> 
> tw // mentions of abuse, corpse, attempt of violence

Tommy sees things in black and white, he always has. There's always the villain, and the hero. He's always referred to himself as the hero.

So when Schlatt was killed, he was smiling, _laughing_ even. In that caravan, Manburg cheered once the beast fell, and if Tommy could do that scene all over again, he would've taken his shot at the president sooner.

However, at that time, the smile was wiped straight off of his face when he turned to see the horrified expressions of Tubbo and Quackity, Quackity's eyes displaying a deep mourning, and Tubbo's eyes downcast, containing all of the emotions a _kid_ such as himself should never feel.

Tommy didn't understand. Schlatt had ordered his execution, in front of all of Manburg, putting his best friend through such a traumatic and horrific experience. Schlatt had verbally and even _physically_ abused Quackity, so why were the two so upset?

The thought had kept him up for days, as he tossed and turned in his bed when the sun vanished from the sky, replaced by the silvery and solemn light of the moon. Tommy couldn't help but notice how the look on Tubbo's face never quite vanished, after L'manburg's explosion, he couldn't help but notice how Tubbo flinched at the jokes made at Schlatt's funeral, he couldn't help but notice the change it had made in his best friend.

"Why are you upset?" He had asked his friend one morning, when they were gathering firewood. He couldn't forget how the boy had stuttered in his motions, how he had hesitated, before chopping the wood even harder.

"I'm not," Tubbo had answered. It was a lie, Tommy knew that. They could always tell when the other was lying.

"Oh yeah, _sure_ you're not," Sarcasm dripped from the boy's words. "You're going around sulking everywhere, I mean, what's up with you, man? You've changed."

If Tommy could erase the words he said that day, he would. He would tape his mouth shut, so that he wouldn't have to experience what had occured next.

Tubbo had whirled on him, axe still in hand, whilst a sharp and pained expression appeared over the young ram hybrid's face. "It's none of your business, okay? Leave it alone." He had snapped.

The blonde-haired boy opened his mouth to respond, his eyebrows furrowing, before he caught the sight of Tubbo's eyes glossed over with unshed tears. Swallowing thickly, he had turned his head down to look at the dangerous weapon in the boy's hands.

They had been caught in an awkward silence, whilst Tubbo straightened his presidential tie, and moved back wordlessly to the tree he was going at. The sight had been such a strange one, such a difference from the happy-go-lucky attitude that Tubbo had carried with him all the time before Schlatt's demise.

It was different, and Tommy never had reacted well to change. He didn't ask again after Tubbo had snapped.

* * *

The second odd occurrence Tommy had experienced was with none other than Big Q. Quackity was a character who was always humorous, always making everybody smile with his jokes that landed flawlessly. It was easy to tell when something was up with the man.

They had set off to collect resources for the teenager's new and not-cobblestone structure (Quackity wouldn't let him, that bitch) and had found themselves mining and smelting for smooth stone. 

"You know, I could get child protective services on your ass. This is _child labour!_ It's illegal!" Tommy protested, but continued mining anyways. "Just wait until Philza Minecraft hears about this one. He made this world, y'know that? You're fucked."

"Oh, so you're admitting that you're a child now? Has a demon possessed you, or has someone finally knocked some sense in to your pea brain?" Quackity retorted playfully, laughing at his own response. Tommy, however, had responded with launching his whole body at the small man, which unsurprisingly, knocked the duck hybrid over.

"I am _not_ a child, dickhead!"

"You're just in denial."

"The queen would have you dead for this. Queen 'Liz, unleash your wrath on this sinners soul!" Quackity took this moment to knock the boy off with his wing, the small man descending in to fits of laughter as Tommy was flung off.

As the laughter died down, the two got right back to work. Both picked up their dropped diamond pickaxes off of the stone floor, small pieces of rock flying off as they mined. It was almost a good day.

"I think we're near the Pogtopia ravines, actually. God, it's so weird to think that I'm not exiled anymore, and _Schlatt_ is finally gone, that bastard." Though Tommy faced away from Quackity while he was mining, he could feel the atmosphere of the room drop to a tense one, much different from the happy and playful atmosphere merely moments before.

"Hey, Big Q, do you-" he cut himself off as he noticed the small sniffles that came from the shorter man, and how Quackity had raised a sleeve to wipe his eyes. "..Big Q?"

"Wha-? Oh, right. Sorry," the shorter gave a watery laugh, gesturing to the bits of stone placed in and on top of the chest. Tommy had opened his mouth to ask, before he remembered what had happened with Tubbo. It was best to leave sensitive subjects alone, at least for Tommy.

"Come on, big man, we need to be getting back," he had said. "It's getting late."

Quackity nodded silently, picking up the chest and balancing the stone on top. Tommy watched him leave faster than usual, an uneasy feeling settling in his stomach.

Maybe it wasn't his business, but Tommy wasn't stupid. He had noticed how Quackity _and_ Tubbo had left in a hurry at the mention of Schlatt, and with all of the other behaviour.. it was beginning to scare him.

It wasn't fucking _fair._ Schlatt is dead. He shouldn't be affecting anyone anymore.

Tommy had left the cave that day, fueled by a hatred that burned deeply in his soul, as he marched towards the grassy hills that marked Schlatt's grave.

He had a few words to say to that monster.

* * *

The night was dark and cold, and he could see the torches lit around the grave flickering in the distance. No mobs were nearby that he knew of, which was good.

Stars twinkled above his head, like little eyes without the pupils. He payed no attention to them, only the stone grave that lay not ten feet in front of him.

It took Tommy five more steps to notice that the grave had been opened, a pile of dirt on to the side, and a great big hole revealing the man's corpse. He couldn't help but notice how the man looked like he was sleeping, the bouquet of vibrant and colourful flowers in his cold, dead hands.

"Fuck you," Tommy spat out, scuffing dirt up with his foot and in to the hole. "Fuck you, Schlatt. Do you know just how much you've done? Why is it fucking fair how _you_ get to run away from it all, whilst the people I care about are still hurt?"

The boy glared daggers at the corpse, half expecting Schlatt to look up and give him an answer. When he didn't get one, he growled in frustration, looking at the headstone that lay in front of the grave.

Tommy kicked the headstone, once, twice. Two turned in to three, in to four, to five. He kicked and kicked until he felt his energy drain away, until the frustration that had welled up inside him drained as well.

Crumbling to the ground, he huffed out a breath. "Are you fucking happy, Schlatt? Are you finally at peace with yourself? Are you _proud_ of what you've done?" He questioned, knowing that no answer would appear.

"You were the person I aspired to be. I _wanted_ to be you, and looking back on it, I'm so glad that I had Tubbo there to guide me in the right direction. I'm so glad that I didn't end up as the _monster_ you are," He hissed. "What did you do to them while Wilbur and I weren't there?"

"They mourn for you, you know. I don't know why. They mourn for someone who doesn't deserve to be mourned for. Quackity, Tubbo, they deserved _way_ better than what you ever gave them," Anger reared its head again, sending pulsed of frustration and fury through his body. Tommy was pissed.

It was only when he looked to the side of the headstone, he noticed the hat of the new person in town. He hadn't had many conversations with her, but he had seen her ride in on horseback.

"Why is this here..?" He mumbled, before shaking his head. It didn't matter.

"God, if I could shoot you through the skull with that arrow in the caravan, I would. I would kill you hundreds of times over," He started right back up again. The boy was riling himself up.

"You ordered execution on my best fucking friend, from which he _barely_ survived. Do you know how much you _traumatized_ him? He can't stand the sight of a firework anymore without spiraling in to a panic attack, he can't fucking last a _week_ without a nightmare anymore. You did this to him, you horrible, _horrible_ monster," Venom dripped off every single word.

"I'm going to wipe that peaceful look off of your face, you don't _deserve_ peace after everything you've done. I wish you could stay locked up in a prison forever, thinking about the shit you did, and how awful you are," The wave of anger spilled over, and the boy stormed away, coming back with a large stone in his hands.

He lifted the stone above the mans head, his arms trembling slightly with the weight, staring down coldly at the man's face.

But as he stared at the face of his former idol, the person that he looked up to, the person that he aspired to be, he couldn't find it in himself to go through with the act. Tossing the stone to the side, he panted, kneeling on the ground and looking up at the sky.

"After all the things you've done, I can't do it," he let out a humourless chuckle. "Because it doesn't matter anyways. You're dead, and that won't change no matter what happens to your corpse."

"All I can do now is make sure that _nothing_ like this ever happens again. I'll make sure that nobody turns out the same way you did," Tommy pulled the rock to sit behind the grave.

"You're gone, and I'm glad. I hate you," he huffed. "But screaming at a corpse won't fix anything."

The boy turned away from the corpse, walking in the direction to his home.

Tommy didn't look back once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! another chapter on its way soon!! if you enjoy, please leave a kudos and a comment! it keeps me motivated for the next chapter :]

**Author's Note:**

> ty for reading! more on the way soon :]


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